


When It's Over, You'll Breathe Again

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Minor Bellamy Blake/Echo, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Clarke applied to colleges before her dad died, made up the decision that she was leaving the midwest for the east coast before she knew how bad the second half of senior year would be, before she knew she'd be leaving her mother alone, before she knew how isolated she'd feel. It's still what she wants, but it's not the person she thought she'd be, starting at Arcadia.But she'll be okay, sooner or later. She'll be good.





	1. Enemies to Friends

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Clarke smiles a little, a ghost of an expression flitting over her mouth. Her mother has been asking the same question, or variations on the same question, for the last nine months, and Clarke doesn't think there's an answer that can reassure her. She's as good as she can be; she's getting by. And this is an improvement, probably. The next stage of her life, a new start. Somewhere fresh and untouched, away from her grief and everyone she knows.

Away from her mother and her constant need for reassurance.

"I'm good," she promises. "If I need anything else, I can just get it online. But you thought of everything," she adds, before Abby can object further. "You have to leave sometime."

"I know. But I could stay one more night. The hotel isn't--"

"Mom," she says, gentle. "I'm fine. This is what's supposed to happen. I go to college, you go home. This is how it works."

Abby sighs. "I know. I'd just feel better if you were closer."

The guilt twists the pit of Clarke's stomach, as sharp as if someone put their fist in there. Her college applications were done and submitted before her father died, and everywhere she wanted to go was far from home. She always wanted to strike out on her own, somewhere she didn't know anyone, and it hadn't felt like a big deal, not until the accident.

Now, she's leaving her mother alone in a way she wasn't before, in a way she wasn't expecting to. It can be the right call for her, and it is, but it's still going to be hard.

"I know," she says. "But I really am fine. And if I need you, you can afford to come out on short notice."

A smile tugs at Abby's mouth. "That's one way of looking at it."

"Thanks for moving me in, but--you should go get your flight. Just because you have the money doesn't mean you should blow thousands of dollars to say another night."

"When you put it like that." The hug is too tight, but Clarke doesn't object, doesn't mention it, just squeezes back. "I love you, honey. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

"I will. I love you too. Thanks for bringing me out."

"Of course." She lets out a quick, sharp breath, nods once. "I'll let you know when I get through security."

"Sounds good. Safe flight. I love you," she says again, when Abby lingers, and that's it, the secret words that end it. Her mother gets into the Uhaul and Clarke waits until she's out of sight before she turns around, heads back to the dorm. It's awful, how much it feels like a weight lifting off her throat. How it feels like freedom and relief.

Abby's going to be fine. She has friends, people who care about her. Clarke will call her tonight, once her flight has landed, and she can text Callie in a few days, make sure that she's checking in and that Abby isn't just burying herself in her work.

She's not doing anything wrong, being so far from home. This really is how college is supposed to be.

The halls are crowded with other people moving in, her future classmates and potential friends, but she's not ready to talk to them yet. She and Abby met the RA earlier, a big, soft-spoken guy named Lincoln, and he told her that he'd be going to the dining hall at six with anyone who wanted to come. But it's not even three yet, which gives her plenty of time to decorate her new room and psych herself up for being social.

It's going to get easier, obviously. She's going to belong here.

The dorm room is about half the size of her bedroom, a cramped single that's all the space she really needs. Abby helped her get the furniture in place, orienting the mini-fridge across from the bed with her TV on top of it, but she still has all her books and clothes and posters to deal with. Music is playing softly from the laptop on her desk and the window is open, letting the late summer air in, already relaxing her. Clarke's never actually decorated a room from scratch before like this, and she finds herself starting to grin as she works, loving the slow way the space becomes _hers_.

By the time she's done, it's almost five o'clock, and she's still not ready to be social, but she is ready to go exploring. Abby offered to take her to the grocery store--Arcadia is a small town, and the nearest supermarket isn't within walking distance--but the unloading had already taken longer than they planned, and Clarke was ready to be alone.

She grabs her phone and puts her earbuds in, not turning on the music yet so she can eavesdrop. In the hall, it's more of the same moving in stuff, and she smiles, friendly, but doesn't stop to introduce herself to anyone. There's going to be a dorm meeting tomorrow night, once everyone has arrived, and she'll meet other people at dinner anyway.

By then, maybe she'll have figured out what to say about herself.

The day is overcast and muggy, the kind of day where clothes start sticking as soon as you go outside. There's one main street in town, lined with expensive boutiques that aren't really marketing themselves to the students, but the bookstore is there too, plus some restaurants and cafes. There's a small general store that sells dorm essentials, too, and that's Clarke's first stop. She gets some snacks, just to have around, and an iced tea for now. She was more dehydrated than she realized.

"New student?" asks the guy behind the counter. He's cute, with a nice smile and hair that falls in his eyes. She still can't manage much of a smile in return.

"That obvious?"

"It's move-in day, everyone's a new student. And you have the starter pack," he adds, gesturing to her groceries.

"Am I missing anything?" 

"Nope, you've got it covered." He gives her her change and a receipt. "Good luck."

"Thanks, I need it."

She drinks her tea as she walks up and down the street, window-shopping. The businesses that students frequent are obvious, the grocery, the coffee shop, the book store, a stark contrast to the clothing stores and art galleries. It's a street with something of a split personality, but that's not really surprising. Arcadia is enough of a college town that it's named after the college, but there are people who live here too, and tourists. They must have more going on than just student life.

She picks up a day planner and some notebooks at the bookstore, just to have something else to do, and drags her feet as she goes back to the dorm, still trying to figure out a new persona. She doesn't have to give anyone her whole history, especially not people she's just met. That's the point of going away for college, right? A fresh start.

"Clarke!" says Lincoln, as she opens the door to her hall. "There you are."

"Here I am," she says, smiling and pulling her earbuds out. "Just getting supplies."

"Did your mother leave?"

"Yeah, she had a flight to catch."

He nods. "Are you coming to dinner with us?"

_Us_ , so far, is Lincoln and three others, bright, nervous teenagers who are all smiling at Clarke as if they're happy to meet her, as if they know her already.

She makes herself smile back. "Yeah, let me just drop this stuff off."

"No rush. We're not quite ready to go yet, I think we're still waiting on a few more people."

"Cool, back in a sec."

She unloads slowly, dawdling as she puts away the juice and the chips, straightening her desk. 

There was some small, stupid part of her that thought that, as soon as she got here, she'd be okay. That she would be ready for people again, natural and normal and easy. She'd been so excited about Arcadia, before her dad died, and there's no reason she can't be again.

She will be. So soon.

In the mirror, she thinks she looks pretty normal. Her hair is braided back from her face, her eyes aren't red or puffy or anything. It's not like she's been _crying_. Numbness doesn't really show.

She opens the door and walks directly into someone, a solid wall of muscle that feels more masculine than feminine, a scent she's smelled before, some familiar deodorant or soap or something.

"Sorry," says the person, the voice tugging at her ear, and Clarke looks up into the familiar dark eyes of Bellamy Blake.

The eyes blinks a few times, rapid, like he thinks that if he does it enough, he'll see something else. But of course he doesn't, and then he focuses, looking her up and down with a sharp, critical expression. It's been months since she saw him, since before she left school, and they've both changed, albeit not drastically. He seems taller than she remembered, broader. His hair is the usual inky mess, but he's wearing glasses and a button-down, looking more grown-up than he used to, as if he's already updated himself for college.

_College_. He's here, in her dorm. They're _at the same college_.

"Clarke," he says, nodding. "Hey."

She chokes on a laugh. "Hey."

"Oh, you two already met?" Lincoln asks, smile friendly and oblivious. "Good. That's Clarke, everyone. Clarke, this is Fox, Monty, Monroe, John, and Riley. And you already met Bellamy."

"We've actually known each other for a while," says Bellamy. She's probably the only one who can hear the slight tension in his voice. "We went to high school together."

"Well, even better," says Lincoln, bright. As if this isn't the world's weirdest coincidence. "Everyone ready to go?"

The silence as they start to walk is somehow even more awkward than Clarke expected. It would be one thing if she and Bellamy had been friendly in high school. They saw a good deal of each other, both being academically inclined overachievers, but Bellamy never liked her, so she didn't like him right back. Every class they had together, they bickered and argued endlessly, always somehow on opposite sides of arguments. They compared test scores and fought over academic standings, at least until her dad died and her whole life fell apart.

He did, at that point, send a card, a _real_ card, one he bought and stamped and mailed to her, a level of effort that caused her to break down crying for a good half an hour. Which doesn't make things any less awkward, especially since she'd assumed it would be the last she ever heard from him. It seemed like an appropriately weird end to their relationship, a confirmation that whatever animosity they had wasn't _real_ , not like the death of a parent was.

_My mom died when I was fourteen_ , he wrote. _I'm so sorry you're going through this too._

"You know you were still in the yearbook," he observes now, into the silence between them. They're lagging behind the rest of the group, slightly removed from the excited chatter. It's like being underwater, distant and indistinct. Except for Bellamy. "And on the list of graduating seniors. But they listed your college as _unknown_."

"I did technically graduate."

"The teachers told us you were completing an alternate spring semester curriculum." She can practically hear the airquotes in his voice, can see Mrs. Harrison making the announcement in her overly chipper manner.

"Yeah."

"I was pretty pissed when I realized it wasn't a euphemism for rehab."

The statement startles her out of complacency. "Pissed?"

"No offense to your grief or whatever, but when my mom died they sent me to live with my grandmother and had me back in school in about two weeks."

The huff of laughter surprises her, this quick, involuntary response. " _My grief or whatever_."

"Sorry," he says, without contrition, but his eyes are serious. "No offense to your specific grief."

"None taken. It was my mom's idea. When break ended, I just--I couldn't go in, that first day. I didn't know how. I was thinking it would just be a day or two, until I was ready, but by dinner time, my mom had gotten me a home-schooling schedule to finish out the year, and I wasn't going to argue with her. Even if I maybe should have."

"If someone gave me a way out of senior spring, I would have taken it."

It's what Allie and Carolyn said, the one time they visited. _I wish I didn't have to go to school this semester!_ It's the same sort of impulse that made her jealous when someone was sick, a kind of ignorant envy based around the mistaken belief that the terrible thing that got her out of the mildly unpleasant thing would somehow be a net win.

"Or maybe not," Bellamy adds, to her surprise. His voice is thoughtful. "I probably would have appreciated the distraction."

Clarke's throat closes, but just for a second. "Yeah. I would have gone back, if I could."

He nods. "So, Arcadia. How'd you end up here?"

What he lacks in subtlety, he makes up for in grace; it may be an obvious subject change, but he sounds interested. "I did an east coast college tour last year over spring break and fell in love. You?"

"Best financial aid relative to prestige."

"Relative to prestige?"

He shrugs. "I could have gone to a state school and saved more money, even with all the financial aid I got here. But this is going to be better for future career prospects, especially if I stay on the east coast."

"And you want to?"

"I think so. This is where I grew up."

"Really?"

"Not here, but yeah. Maryland."

"Until your mom died."

He nods. "I never really got used to the midwest."

"My mom wanted me to stay closer," she admits, bile rising in her throat. She shouldn't be telling _him_ this. She should be talking to the crowd in front of them, making friends. She was supposed to be getting away from everything, and here she is, talking to probably the only person on campus she already knows. "But I didn't apply anywhere close to home. And I wanted to get out."

"Yeah." They lapse into silence, watching the dining hall getting closer and closer, until he finally says, "I can't believe they put us in the same fucking _dorm_ ," and Clarke finds herself laughing, a little too long and hard, but Bellamy doesn't call her out on it.

"Yeah," she says, when she recovers. "What are the odds?"

*

Dinner isn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be. Everyone else wants to hear about her and Bellamy, which is a surprisingly easy topic of conversation. Even without her asking him, Bellamy doesn't bring up her dad or the semester she took off of school. They focus on the fun part of their relationship, the long history of bickering over nothing, with occasional diversions into bickering about real things.

"How did it _start_?" Fox finally asks. "Did something happen?"

"Bellamy never liked me," says Clarke.

He frowns. "Says who? I liked you fine."

"You definitely started it. I remember thinking if you didn't like me, I wasn't going to like you either."

That gets a snort out of him, the familiar scoff of amusement that Clarke remembers from class when she said something he agreed with but he didn't want to admit it. "Maybe I didn't like you because you're such a brat."

"Maybe I didn't like you because you're such a dick."

"That must be it."

The conversation moves along to other people, other things, but Clarke has another hook now. She's not the quiet girl, not the girl whose father died less than a year ago. She's just one of that pair of midwest kids. It's maybe a little weird being yoked to Bellamy like that, but that doesn't have to be forever. After a few more weeks, she'll develop an identity of her own. She'll meet people through her classes, get to know some of the other people on the floor. Lincoln likes art, which is a good start, and Monty and Fox seem cool. And she and Bellamy can be acquaintances, people who pass each other in the hall or sit together at meals sometimes. Allies, of a sort, but irregular ones.

And over the next few days, that is indeed how it goes. Arcadia has a week of orientation activities for freshmen before the semester starts, with different tracks for different interests. Clarke selected the arts track because she likes art and hates hiking, which was a fairly major part of the other tracks. Bellamy is on one of the trips that involves an actual camping _trip_ , so she doesn't see much of him, but Monty is on the arts track, along with his best friend Jasper, and as a unit they're kind of a whirlwind. It's easy for Clarke to follow in their wake, or use their antics as a jumping off point to interact with other people. She makes "friends," in the most basic sense of the word, with a cute girl named Maya who also likes rolling her eyes at Jasper, and while it doesn't feel like being in high school before what happened to her dad, it does, at least, feel like a good place to start college. Maya's in the same art-history lecture she's in, and Sterling is going to take studio art at some point. They're touchpoints, placeholders, people she can tell her mom about when she calls, ones who may yet become real connections.

Evenings are a little tougher. Monty and Jasper mostly play video games, which Clarke isn't good at, and while she can sit and watch, it feels a little silly and desperate. And it's not as if she _minds_ being alone--often, she prefers it--but she can't help feeling as if she's already failing at college.

As a compromise, she leaves her door open, and people stop by to say hi as they pass. Monty asks her to join him and Jasper for a movie on Friday and she does, and on Saturday, it's Bellamy sticking his head in.

"I'm so jealous you got a single."

She jumps, surprised and a little unnerved at the sight of him. She hadn't exactly forgotten he was here, but she's still not used to the fact that Bellamy Blake is a part of her college existence. "When did you get back?"

"An hour ago. I was in the shower most of the time. I like camping, but I wish it had running water."

"I'd like camping if it had running water, catered food, four walls, a roof--" He snorts, and she smiles too. "So, you had fun?"

"Yeah. How were the museums?"

"Good."

"I'm going to need more details than that."

"You are?" 

"I like museums. The only reason I did the camping trip was because it looked like I could get to the museums on my own. I need you to tell me which ones to go to."

She smiles a little. "Nerd."

"Be nice or I won't bring you to this party."

She frowns. "Party?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Are you seriously asking me why a party is happening? It's college. If movies didn't lie to me, there's always a party."

"Why are you bringing me?"

"Because you're the only person I know here who wasn't already invited. You don't have to come, but I figured you might want to."

She stands, a little too quickly. "Yeah, I should."

"You _should_?"

"I'm trying to be social."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Ask me again after the party." She flicks her eyes over him; he's wearing his glasses still, and a t-shirt and jeans, but it feels like the clothes fit him better than they did in high school. He looks older. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"It's not black tie."

"I just wanted to make sure I shouldn't change."

"Yeah, you're fine."

"What kind of party is this?" she asks, as she follows him out. 

"I don't know. Miller wasn't sure he'd be able to get booze but I think he was trying. Otherwise I think it's just hanging out in his common room. Maybe games?"

"Miller is a new friend?"

"Yeah, from the camping trip." He bumps her shoulder. "What about you? Any new friends?"

"Tentatively."

"Tentatively?"

"I barely know them. But I like them so far."

He shakes his head with a smile. "Jesus, you're ridiculous."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How long does it take for you to decide someone is your friend?"

"Depends on the person," she says, a little too quickly.

But Bellamy just laughs. "Is Monty actually cool, at least?"

"He is."

"Good."

"Is Miller your only new friend?"

Of course, it's not just Miller. Bellamy is one of those guys who just seems to attract people effortlessly, in a way Clarke can't quite wrap her mind around. It's one of the first things she remembers from high school, how quickly he became one of the popular kids. As soon as their grade had sorted itself out enough to have a social order, he was on top of it, every girl (and probably plenty of boys) had a crush on him, and everyone wanted to be his friend. It felt a little like when everyone started watching a new TV show or got really into a movie that Clarke hadn't seen yet, and she ended up never actually checking it out, too resentful and petulantly opposed to the whole thing just because she didn't get in on the ground floor.

But he's her only real ally right now, and he's using his natural charisma to help her fit in, so she just smiles as he talks, trying to remember all the names and trivia he throws at her.

"How did you already bond with this many people?" she has to ask, and he smiles.

"Remembering basic facts isn't necessarily bonding. This might be why you don't have friends."

"I have friends."

The teasing tone drops out of his voice, and he looks ahead, careful, when he asks, "Do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just--" He shrugs. "When you stopped showing up at school, I was worried, and I didn't even know who to ask."

There were people who visited her, obviously, at least at first, but at the same time, she knows exactly what Bellamy means. She had school friends, class friends. No one she was really close enough to that anyone would single them out.

No one she was close enough to that she still talks to them.

"I thought I had friends," she says, finally. "But I've been reassessing. Not because of them," she adds, fast. "They didn't do anything wrong."

"Major life events can make you rethink your priorities," he says.

"I never thanked you for the card."

He doesn't seem to think it's a subject change. "I figured you had a lot going on. I wasn't offended."

"No, but--it really meant a lot to me."

"I'm glad I could help."

"What was it like when your mom died?" she asks. She's got a few details, but she's hungry for more. He seems okay; she wants to know how to be okay too.

"Bad, but not as bad as it could have been. It wasn't a surprise, like it was with your dad. She'd been sick. And it was a couple weeks before we started ninth grade, so I didn't have a ton of time off, but it was enough to pack up and move. Plus everyone else was just starting a new school too. And--me and her, we weren't like you and your dad, probably."

"No?"

He glances up at the building they're approaching, hesitating, and then sits down on the stairs instead of going in.

Clarke sits too, close enough people have room to get by her, and he smiles as he joins her. "We can go up in a minute."

"I don't mind putting off going to a party."

"Of course you don't."

"So, your mom."

"I loved her, don't get me wrong," he says. "But she wasn't around much, and I know it was because she was working, but--" He shrugs. "I see other people with their parents and it wasn't the same. Sometimes I feel like I was more like her little brother."

"What about your dad?"

"He was never around. I don't think he even knew I existed. That's how it was with my sister. I'm not even sure which of the boyfriends was O's dad."

"I feel like I should send you a card," she says, guilt clogging her throat. "Mine doesn't sound so bad now."

"The better you have it, the worse it is to lose it. I was terrified when she actually died," he goes on, before Clarke can try to engage with that. "I thought me and my sister were going to be put in foster care. But then they found Gran."

"Your mom's mom?"

"Yeah. I guess, uh--" He rubs the back of his neck. "When my mom got pregnant, Gran told her to get rid of it. She was only nineteen. My mom wouldn't, they fought, and Gran disowned her. I guess she always regretted it, but Mom never came back and we moved around too much for Gran to track her down. I didn't even know I had a family."

"Why are you telling me this?" Clarke asks, finally. 

"You asked." She rolls her eyes, and he smiles. "Come on, I said you didn't have any friends. The least I can do after that is be honest."

"Are you trying to be friends with me?"

"You don't have to sound so upset about it."

Her first impulse is to protest that she's not upset, but she bites back on it, makes herself actually think about if she is. Because part of her doesn't want that, or thinks she shouldn't. But just because she was planning to start over knowing no one here doesn't mean she has to throw him away. 

Besides, she's learned more about him in the first week of college than she did in four years of high school. She didn't really know him before. He's basically a new person, except she doesn't have to tell him her history.

"Surprised," she says. "Not upset."

He nods. "Well, your dad died. I feel bad for you."

Her own laughter is a shock, like being struck by lightning, this bright, sharp thing. Bellamy grins, teeth flashing white in the dark, and stands, offering her a hand up. "Are we going to this party?" he asks, and she lets him tug her to her feet.

"Lead the way."

*

Clarke's first class is Art History 101, Monday at 10 a.m. She arrives early to get her pick of seats and finds one she likes in the third row. She hasn't been in a classroom since before winter break, and never one this big, but it feels familiar, like putting her favorite coat back on once the weather gets cold. She's always liked school, even if she hadn't quite realized she _missed_ it.

"You really had to sit this close?" asks Maya, taking the chair next to hers. 

Clarke smiles. "Sorry."

"It's okay, at least I have someone to sit with. How are you settling in?"

Maya is easy to talk to, soft-spoken and sweet, and when class ends after nothing but a quick review of the syllabus and assignment of homework, they grab coffee and exchange phone numbers.

Her second class is Introduction to Classical Philosophy at 11, and Bellamy is already there when she arrives.

"Seriously?"

He grins and moves his bag so she can take the seat next to his. "If I'd known you were coming I would have waited for you."

"I came from another class."

"Which one?"

"Art History. We ended early, but I got coffee with the potential friend from my pre-orientation thing."

As she hoped he would, Bellamy laughs. "How long does she have to wait before she gets upgraded?"

"I don't have an exact timeline in mind. Is this your first class?"

"Yeah."

"What else are you taking?"

Clarke hadn't thought she knew anything about what Bellamy liked, academically speaking, but his class roster isn't even a little surprising, when he shares it: history, classics, and a post-colonial literature class that starts her giggling.

"What?" he asks, scowling.

"Not--I'm in that one too. We have two classes together."

Now that he's in on the joke, he starts to laugh too. "Jesus. Good thing we decided to be friends, huh?"

"We don't always do well in classes together."

"Maybe it's going to be better here."

"Were you always this optimistic?"

"Definitely not. But we're at college, right? I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. Maybe life isn't completely terrible."

"Let's not get carried away."

He grins. "What's your last class?"

"Studio art."

"So you're doing art major stuff, I'm doing history major stuff, and we're taking the same electives."

"Pretty much."

"Maybe that means we'll be less invested."

"Because neither of us could ever get heated about philosophy or colonialism."

"Honestly, I feel bad for the rest of the class," he teases, and Clarke smiles too, even though she's not entirely sure it's a joke. Carolyn told her once, after a particularly heated fight in AP US History, that they needed to schedule their own time to fight and leave everyone else out of it, and Wells, having only heard about her relationship with Bellamy over the phone, told her to just bang the guy and put everyone else out of their collective misery.

But somehow their classes together at college are fine. Good, even. Part of the problem with high school was that no one else, even the other nerdy kids, was as invested in their fights as they were, whereas in college, they're suddenly in rooms full of people who care just as much about stupid academic arguments as they do, so it's not _just_ them.

Even better, Bellamy likes company when he studies and kind of hates his roommate, so he'll follow Clarke to her room after classes or meals and stretch out on her floor to study. They get their own discussions of the material out of the way then, as they work, and not only does it mean they're not biting each other's heads off during actual classes, but they're better prepared for the discussions when they do come.

"He's on your _floor_?" her mother asks, with some horror, when she calls during one of their study sessions.

"He seems pretty happy." Bellamy looks up, and Clarke flaps her hand in his general direction. "I told him he could sit on the bed instead but he went with floor."

"Oh," says Bellamy. "Your floor's pretty comfortable."

"You're pretty weird."

He shrugs, unconcerned, and Clarke doesn't think anything of it until she gets a package slip the next week and finds a giant Target box waiting for her in the mail room.

**Me** : Where are you right now

**Bellamy** : Library  
Why?

**Me** : I think my mom bought me a futon  
Or some other furniture  
For you   
I need your muscles

**Bellamy** : Interesting  
Where are you?

She calls up Abby while she waits for him, confirms that, yes, her mother decided that if she was having friends over, she needed a futon, and Abby looked to see which ones were best for dorms, and she _would_ have asked, except that she knew Clarke would say no.

"Which didn't stop you," she says, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"You can donate it to Goodwill if you don't like it. I'll never know."

"Asking definitely would have been easier. But thanks."

"Your friends shouldn't be sitting on the floor."

"Bellamy is stubborn enough he might keep doing it anyway. But we'll see."

"Your mom just sends you furniture out of nowhere?" he asks, when he does arrive. "Is that a rich-person thing?"

"I think her love language is stuff."

"Huh. How do I make her love me? I want stuff."

"Just keep doing what you're doing. She already bought you this futon."

"And she didn't warn you?"

"No, but I should have seen it coming. She was trying to convince me to get more furniture when I moved in, I'm not surprised she jumped at the first chance."

Bellamy picks up the box like it weighs nothing and Clarke holds the door open for him, since there isn't much else for her to contribute here. "Is there a reason you didn't want a futon?"

Her first instinct is to lie or deflect, but that feels kind of pointless with Bellamy these days. He's the person she gets to be honest with. "I was afraid no one would want to use it."

"So you didn't want to get furniture until you had friends?"

"I probably would have waited a little longer," she teases. "Just to make sure everything stuck."

"Okay, but what if having a futon makes more people want to be your friend?" 

She snorts. "Then they're not real friends, are they?"

"That's true. You can trust me because I liked you before you had a futon."

That one she does let go, even as it makes her squirm. She still doesn't _get_ Bellamy liking her, still feels like she's waiting for the catch, the trick, the camera crew that jumps out and says she's being tricked, that he was just pretending to like his nemesis for a cash prize. There's a part of her that's sure it can't last, that it can't be so _easy_.

But there's also the part of her that likes him without any complications, and if she feels that way, why can't he? It wasn't like they had some huge falling out. They just didn't like each other, without ever giving liking each other a chance.

Now they have, and it's going pretty well.

"I'm thinking about trying to become actual friends with Maya," she tells him, a safe and fairly elegant subject change. "But I don't actually know the next steps."

"That's the girl from your art history class, right?"

"Yeah."

"You could ask her to do something."

"Doesn't that seem kind of like a date?" she asks, making a face.

"Depends on what you ask her to do. Do you want it to be a date?"

He sounds curious and open to the idea, so Clarke figures she might as well be honest. That's Bellamy's big selling point, as a friend; she's somehow never worried she can't tell him the truth.

"I don't think with Maya. But I've been wondering about--that."

"Dating?" She glares, and he smiles. "You think you might like girls?"

"I don't know. I always felt like--I wouldn't mind, I guess? If I liked a girl. But I never did."

"You still could. I've been thinking about joining the LGBT group, if you want to come."

It's about the last thing she expected from him. She's not sure he ever had a _girlfriend_ in high school, but he was certainly never hurting for company. "Are you--"

"Bi, I think. Like you, I guess."

For a second, she can't quite breathe. "I don't see how you just _say_ stuff like that. I feel like a fraud even thinking about it."

"I saw _Black Panther_ and wanted to make out with everyone in it," he says, with a shrug. "I figure that's a good start."

"Celebrities don't count."

"Why not?"

"Because they're--" She huffs, taps her card to unlock their building as she tries to articulate it. "They're supposed to be hot. They're not real."

"I'm pretty sure they're real." He glances back over his shoulder as he starts up the stairs. "It's up to you, what's--that's enough for me, it doesn't have to be enough for you. But I'm pretty sure you can come to the club even if you're not sure."

"When is it?"

"A week from Wednesday. First meeting of the year."

"I'll think about it."

"Think of all the people you could meet who might use your new couch."

"Once we have it set up."

That doesn't actually take long; between the two of them, they get it assembled in about fifteen minutes, and Bellamy helps her move the TV so it's comfortably visible from both the bed and the new futon. It looks nice, a little more crowded, but in a good way. Like her life is full enough to spill out at the edges.

It's not even three o'clock yet, and Clarke has plenty to do. She has slides to memorize and readings to finish and papers to work on. But she also has a new futon and a friend already sitting on it.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" she asks.

Bellamy pats the cushion next to him. "Yeah, sounds fun."

*

Clarke skips the LGBT club meeting. She has a decent excuse--she really _does_ have a TA session to go to--but it's also very much an excuse. And Bellamy seems to get that, just says he'll be going with Miller every week if she wants to tag along, and then he lets it go. 

Clarke doesn't quite do the same, but she puts it on the back burner. Something to build to.

Maya's dorm throws a party and she invites Clarke, doing the work of the first friendship overture for her. She brings Bellamy, Fox, and Monty, and Monty brings Jasper, so when she shows up, it even feels like she's got a lot of friends.

She actually has one friend, two-semi friends, and an acquaintance, but no one else is counting like that. That's not how other people think of these things. She's the only one.

It's been a month and a half since she last went to a party, the one at Miller's with Bellamy. Miller has definitely had other parties since, and Clarke's been invited, but she can't bring herself to _like_ him. It's not a mystery why she doesn't, at least; she spent a couple weeks pretending she didn't know, telling herself they just didn't click, but it's simple possessiveness. Bellamy is _her_ friend, and she worries that she's only his because he doesn't have anyone else yet. Once he's got other options, he'll stop holding onto her, and Miller is the most obvious candidate. He and Clarke are clearly the two people Bellamy is closest to on campus, and he might not need _two_ friends.

He'd laugh if she told him that, which means she might, someday. He's good at making her feel better.

But she knew that if she went to parties with him, she'd be anxious about feeling out of place, that she wouldn't fit in with his college friends or something. Which is, again, completely irrational, because she might as well be one of his college friends. But she never said her fears were rational.

She'd hoped that if he came with her, instead of the other way around, she'd feel better, but it doesn't make any difference. Bellamy is charismatic and attractive, easy in any crowd, and he seems to know _everyone_. He hasn't met Maya, but he grins at her, tells her how much he's heard about her, and she's charmed in seconds.

Meanwhile, Clarke decides to get drunk.

She's gotten drunk a few times before, but she hasn't done it at college yet. The last time she did it was a party in November, before her dad died, celebrating the end of the cross-country season. She'd prided herself on her drinking ability back then, how good she was at drinking games, how many shots she could do without feeling it. And she's not a different person, now, just because her father died. She can do the same things she did before. She's not a new person.

But she is a person with less alcohol tolerance than she used to have. She's out of practice, and the first two shots have her pleasantly tipsy, while the first game of beer pong--which she _wins_ \--has her hazy and ready to drink more.

"Might not be a good idea," says someone, and she squints up at a semi-familiar guy, cute, with hair that falls in his eyes.

She frowns, and he frowns back. "Do I know you?"

"Maybe. Let's get you some water."

"That's not a reassuring response."

"Water is good," he says. "Come on."

"Are there bottles?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"Because I don't know you and I'm not taking drinks from you."

He pauses. "I was thinking you just stick your head under the bathroom sink."

She's pretty overheated. "That sounds great. Lead the way."

The guy leads her through the throngs of people in the common room, out into the relatively fresh, crisp air of the hallway. Clarke takes a couple grateful lungfuls of air and then refocuses on the unknown guy, trying to place him.

It snaps into place all at once: "You're the guy from the general store."

"That's me, yeah. Finn," he adds, offering his hand.

"Clarke. I didn't think you went here."

"I don't, but I still make it to parties sometimes. I'm at State."

She nods. "And you just go around grabbing drunk girls and making them drink water?"

"Not always, but you looked pretty bad."

"It's been almost a year since I had a drink. I'm not as good at it as I used to be." Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she fumbles to check it without hurting herself or Finn. To her surprise, she has a few messages she missed, mostly Bellamy-- _where did you go, are you okay, haven't you ever heard of the buddy system_ and the like.

She smiles. "Where's the sink?"

"In there," says Finn, jerking his head at the bathroom. "I can come in if you--"

"I'm good. I'm not _that_ drunk."

He looks skeptical and she doesn't blame him; she wouldn't believe herself either. But even if she is drunker than she'd like, now she's aware of it and can deal with the situation. She's pretty good at getting herself together. 

"If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, you can come check on me, if you're that worried."

Without waiting for a response, she slips into the bathroom. Someone's opened the window, so the air is even cooler, and she takes in a few breaths before washing her face and cupping handfuls of water into her mouth.

It does make her feel more human.

**Me** : I'm in the bathroom  
Some cute guy decided I was too drunk and needed water

**Bellamy** : Where did he get the water?

**Me** : I got it directly from the sink, don't worry

**Bellamy** : You disappeared, of course I'm worried  
Which bathroom?

**Me** : I'm fine, seriously  
You can keep doing  
Whatever you're doing  
What are you doing?

**Bellamy** : Coming to find you  
Does the cute guy have douche hair?

**Me** : I don't know how to answer that question

She can hear voices outside, presumably Bellamy talking to Finn, and irritation flares in her chest. She's _fine_. Obviously, she gets why Bellamy is worried, but it's not like it's his job to take care of her. She's an adult, she doesn't need him. She's been going to parties without him for years, and she's never had an issue.

When she leaves the bathroom again, he's got one shoulder propped against the wall as he talks to Finn, his expression open and pleasant, but his stance careful. Bellamy isn't the biggest guy, not that tall or that ripped, but he knows how to hold himself to maximize his impact. 

"Don't be a dick," Clarke snaps, and he startles. His eyes soften as he looks at her, the concern and relief written all over his face, and guilt churns. It's like being with her _mother_ , seriously, people worrying about her who don't need to worry, the nauseating mixture of annoyance at being coddled and guilt for not appreciating it.

"I don't really have any other personality traits," he says. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. My tolerance just dropped."

"I bet." He runs his hand through his hair, all the indignation dropping out of him. "I was worried. I thought something happened."

"Just didn't notice my phone," Clarke says. "Seriously. Everything's fine. You don't have to worry about me."

He huffs. "Because god forbid I want to hang out with you."

Not surprisingly, Finn is looking uncomfortable, glancing between the two of them like he's trying to figure out what he's gotten involved in, even though he hasn't gotten involved in _anything_. Except that Bellamy is kind of a mother hen.

"I figured you had plenty of people to hang out with," Clarke says. "I wanted to play beer pong. And now I want to get to know Finn."

Bellamy's eyes cut to Finn. "Okay, well--have fun with that. Let me know when you're leaving or--just let me know what's going on, okay? I thought I was just going to have to worry about losing Monty and his friend, but they found video games, so--"

That does pierce through the hot, semi-rational irritation fogging her brain. Whether she knew it in high school or not, this is how Bellamy _is_ ; he's fretting about her because she's a girl, or because he's hurt, or any of the stupid things she was thinking. He worries because he can't help worrying about people.

"I'm okay," she says, pitching her voice careful and genuine. "But yeah, I'll check in. I'll probably be ready to go pretty soon."

The last of the tension goes, and he laughs, rolls his eyes. "You're so bad at parties, jesus."

"This is why I don't go to more parties."

"We're going to work on this." His eyes flick to Finn, his jaw tensing, but his smile is genuine enough. "Good to meet you, man."

"You too."

Clarke wants to flirt with Finn. She really does. He's cute and seems fairly responsible, a benign, easy kind of guy, but her attention isn't latching onto him. She manages to chit-chat for about half an hour and blames her desire to leave after on it being a weird night, which it was.

"Should I even ask for your number?" he asks, with a self-deprecating smile. "Or am I just interrupting something going on between you and that Bellamy guy?"

"He's just overprotective," she says. "We went to high school together."

It's an explanation that paints a very specific picture of them, but not a very accurate one. Bellamy is her fretful older brother type, a friend she's had for a long time. Worrying is just a part of who he is.

And that part is accurate, at least. It's a personality trait. And it's not as if she and Bellamy _are_ interested in each other, which is the big thing Finn is asking. He wants to know if he's intruding on something, and this is the easiest way to tell him he's not without technically lying to him.

"So I can get your number?" Finn asks.

"You can," she agrees, and gives it to him. She texts Bellamy while she has her phone out anyway, letting him know she's walking home, and he responds instantly to tell her that he'll meet her outside.

"So, um--I'll text you?" Finn asks, pulling her attention back to him.

"Yeah, you should."

As promised, Bellamy's lingering by the stairs, hands shoved in his pockets, leaning against the railing and watching the stars. It feels as if they had a fight, even though she's not even sure what she did wrong; she didn't think they'd agreed to hang out the whole night or everything, and she's very responsible.

She did get a little drunk, but not _that_ drunk. Even if Finn hadn't come along, she would have been okay.

Maybe Bellamy is thinking the same thing, because he says, "I'm sorry," by way of greeting.

"For what?"

"I'm pretty sure I pissed you off," he says. "So I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

He starts walking, pace slow, expression still thoughtful. "I guess I wasn't expecting you to just ditch me."

"I thought you had plenty of people to talk to," she says. "You seemed good."

"You know talking to those people is one way you can audition people to be additional friends, right? I wanted to introduce you to Niylah."

"Who?"

"She's in my history class. She's a lesbian," he adds. "I think she might be your type. But I guess you didn't need my help on that one."

"You know I don't need your help generally, right?" she asks, and it comes out harsher than she meant. She wanted to be teasing, but he winces.

"Seriously, I don't know what else I can say. You disappeared, I was worried. You can't tell me you wouldn't worry if I was telling you about some total stranger who was trying to take care of me while I was drunk. If something had happened to you, I'd--"

"I know," she says, because she does. If he'd just disappeared, she'd probably freak out too. And she hadn't thought of it as _disappearing_ , really, because she was playing beer pong, which wasn't exactly low profile. But if he'd come in when she wasn't playing and hadn't seen her, if they'd kept missing each other and she wasn't answering her phone-- "I don't like people worrying about me."

"I get that."

"And I get why you worry," she admits. "So maybe we shouldn't go to parties together anymore."

"It's not like you like parties." He clears his throat. "But you did meet a guy."

"I don't need your opinion on that."

"Really? If I met someone, I'd want your opinion."

She looks at him askance, but if he's joking, there's no indication of it in his expression. He seems completely serious. "I didn't think I was a trusted resource."

"I know you're honest about what you think of people. Especially to me. I'd want to know what you thought."

"So, what did you think of Finn? Aside from the douchey hair?"

He shrugs. "I didn't see much of him. But--"

"Tell me," she says, elbowing him. Now that the annoyance has faded, she's curious. If there's something he doesn't like about Finn, she wants to hear it. She does trust his opinion. "Come on, we barely know each other. Now is the time to tell me if you don't like him."

"I don't not like him. But I'm, uh--" He flashes a smile. "Obviously I'm also the kind of guy who worries about people who seem too drunk, but I'd feel like a dick if I tried to turn that into a pickup."

"So, what would you have done? If there was some girl you wanted to flirt with who was super drunk?"

"I'd get her taken care of and let her hit on me if she wanted. And then if she asked, I'd give her my number and let her text me first. Which, uh--" He's so nervous, it's honestly kind of sweet. "I'm not saying that's the only good way to do this. If this guy just asked for your number, it's nothing suspicious. But you're not _that_ drunk, so--maybe he just wanted an excuse to look good for you. I'd be waiting to see how he goes from here."

"So I should be suspicious of good guys who want to help me?"

"If he wants a gold star for worrying about you, don't give him one. Especially since you don't need people protecting you."

He's smiling, making it a shared joke, and it's easy for her to smile too. "He wasn't freaking out as much as you were."

"Yeah, I'm the best at freaking out. I'm just saying, some guys think--caring is a transaction, or something."

"I know," she says, with a smile. "I have met guys before."

"Yeah, but you're also drunk and you didn't think his hair was douchey. I'm being impartial."

"Were you like this in high school?" she asks, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Like--thoughtful?"

He lets out a soft snort of laughter. "I want to say yes, but I think I was less self aware."

"So what happened?"

"A couple things. You were actually one of them."

Her hands feel hot. "Me?"

"I got used to not thinking about you like a person, just--this girl who was an asshole to me. Some rich kid who had everything handed to her. And when you dropped out, I thought--I don't know. I was worried about you, and it reminded me you were an actual human being, not just the sum of my assumptions about you. And you would have been even if your dad didn't die. So--I can remember that and try to be fair."

"Good lesson."

"I try. My sister was the other part."

"What about her?"

"Remember how I said this was the best, cheapest college I got into?"

"Yeah."

"I was originally just going to apply places within an hours' drive from home, and places where I thought I could get a full scholarship. I was going to be there for my sister."

"And you decided not to?"

"She told me if I turned down a great college to hover over her for the rest of high school, she'd never talk to me again." He sighs. "I had this idea in my head about who I was, too. This amazing brother who would sacrifice anything to take care of his sister. But she didn't need it, and she didn't want it. So I stopped--I don't want to be the guy who worries more about looking good than doing good."

"So you applied to Arcadia, got in, and left your sister behind?"

"And honestly? I still feel like I'm doing something wrong, sometimes. Like I'm being selfish and irresponsible. My mom told me to take care of her, but here I am going to parties five states away."

"At least you're not having any fun."

He snorts. "At least there's that."

"I'm not expecting you to keep hanging out with me," she admits. "You're always the most popular guy in the room, I thought you wouldn't even notice I was gone."

"You invited me to a party, I figured I'd see you."

"You should have known better."

He snorts. "Yeah, that's my bad."

"So, is that why you decided you liked me?" she asks, just drunk enough to have the nerve. "Because you figured out I was a person?"

"You want the truth?"

"Yeah."

"The only reason I ever didn't like you was that you didn't like me first."

She starts to protest, but it's dark and a little chilly and he was worried all night. She can give him this one. "I was jealous. I'm not good at making friends and you just had them. You were the new kid and in a week you were more popular than I was."

"I didn't think you cared about people liking you very much. You weren't trying to be popular."

Her mouth twitches. "Trust me, me trying to be popular? Is really sad. I did it for like a week in middle school, me and my best friend Wells. Everyone thought we were moles working for the administration."

"In middle school?" 

"We were really bad at it."

"Apparently." He clears his throat. "I like you, okay? I don't feel sorry for you, I don't think you need someone to take care of you. I don't know what we'd be like if your dad didn't die, but--it's college, we can start over and just be friends. Or, you know, pending friends."

"We're friends, Bellamy," she says, easy. "You're my college friend."

"By the end of the year, you're going to have at least one more friend. One who doesn't have douchey hair," he adds, and she laughs.

"I liked his hair."

"Jesus, you have shitty taste. I don't know why we're friends."

"Me neither," she says, a little too serious for his teasing tone, but he doesn't call her out on it. "Sorry for ditching you."

"Sorry you have such shitty taste in guys."

"Yeah, me too."

*

Finn texts her the next morning, asking how her hangover is, and Clarke goes back and forth for a while about responding. There was nothing _wrong_ with Finn, but Bellamy didn't like him, and if she learned one lesson from last night, it's that she trusts Bellamy. He's the person who has her back here, and if he thinks Finn is bad news, that's worth considering.

Then again, she doesn't have to do this alone. Friends talk.

When she goes down the hall, Bellamy's door is open and he's stretched out on his bed, reading and taking notes with a pen in his mouth. He said he had a history paper to do and he'd come to her room if his roommate got too annoying; now she realizes that he's always the one to come to her, not the other way around.

She's not always the best friend.

"Hey," she says, tapping on the door frame. "How's the hangover?"

"Non-existent. I wasn't the one who got totally wasted last night."

She flops into his desk chair. "Brag about it."

"How's yours?"

"Not too bad. Headache, but I took some advil. It's been a while since I got drunk, but I sobered up a lot by the time I was going to bed."

"Cool." He sits up, watching her. "Are we good?"

"I think so. I'm good with you."

"I'm good with you too."

"I got a text from douche hair. His name is Finn, by the way."

"Pretty sure I'm going to keep on calling him douche hair. What did he say?"

"Just asked how I'm doing. Do you really think he's an asshole?"

He starts like he's going to answer, but then stops, settles back to think it over. "Didn't we cover this last night?"

"Yeah, but I was drunk and annoyed, and you were annoyed. I thought you might have more insight in the sober light of day."

"Not really. If you liked him, you should text him back. And tell me everything he says. You can always stop texting someone if you want to."

"I thought ghosting was supposed to be bad."

"Fuck that," he says, rolling his eyes. "If you don't feel safe, ghost. Guys are assholes."

"Present company included?"

"Sometimes." He shrugs. "You met him at a party, you didn't agree to marry him. Just see how it goes."

"Yeah." She wets her lips. "Can I hang out in here to text with him?"

"Or we can hang out in your room."

"You don't always have to come to me."

He gives her one of his fond half-smiles. "You have a single, Clarke. You have a futon and I don't have to deal with my asshole of a roommate. It's not like I don't like coming to hang out with you."

"So why didn't you come hang out?"

"I thought I might have crossed a line last night."

"If I tell you we're good, we're good. And if I don't want you in my room, I won't let you in."

"Got it." He closes his book, grins. "Let's go. I'll help you text douche hair."

She can't help smiling back. "My hero."

*

Despite the speed of his first text, Finn doesn't seem to be in a rush to win Clarke over. He's a regular texter, but between classes, homework, and his part-time job, he doesn't have a lot of spare time. Clarke thought this might endear him to Bellamy--Bellamy definitely knows about being poor and too busy--but he still exclusively refers to Finn as _douche hair_ and comes up with the worst possible read on it.

"Now he's convinced Finn has another secret girlfriend and that's why he said he couldn't come to this party," Clarke tells Maya, rolling her eyes. "Like that's the only reason someone might miss out."

"I mean, it _is_ your dorm's first party. And the last chance he's going to have to see you before you go home for winter break. I'm not saying Bellamy's right, but it's a little weird Finn doesn't want to spend more time with you."

"It's not like I'm throwing the party. I told him it wasn't a big deal and I meant it. We're not dating, we're just talking."

Maya clicks her tongue. "Have you ever thought maybe Bellamy is just--jealous?"

It feels egotistical to say it, but of course she has. Every time Bellamy says something negative about Finn, she wonders if it's because he wants her for himself, but then she feels kind of silly and cliched. Bellamy can just be her friend; he doesn't have to have an ulterior motive.

"It's not like I've been that attached to Finn," she points out. "If he said he was interested--"

Maya perks up. "What would you do? Do you like him?"

"No," she says, way too fast to be convincing, and Maya just looks at her. "I don't--I could like him. If he liked me."

She bites her lip like she's stifling a laugh. "I don't think it works like that."

Bellamy would laugh, if she told him, but he'd get it too. Or he'd try to get it. She likes Maya, would call her a friend without qualifications at this point, but she can't talk to her like she can talk to Bellamy.

Maybe that's the difference between a friend and a _best_ friend.

"It does for me," she says. "Bellamy's great, and if he asked me out, I'd say yes. But he's trying to set me up with this girl he knows, so I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to date me."

"Do you like girls?" Maya asks. She sounds surprised but not upset or grossed out, so Clarke feels comfortable enough to shrug it off.

"I think I might, yeah."

"That's cool. If Finn's not coming to the party, maybe you should let Bellamy set you up."

"Maybe."

"But I do think--as soon as I saw you two together, I figured you were headed to something, you know? Like, you've just got that vibe."

"It's called heteronormativity," says Clarke, but she's teasing. "He's a guy, I'm a girl, that's the vibe."

"But you would. And you wouldn't with just anyone."

There's no point in denying it. "Nope. He's great. But it's not important." She brightens, deliberate, more for Maya's benefit than because she means it. "You're right. I should see if he can set me up. Finn's cool, but it's not like we're actually dating, so I might as well have fun at the party."

She tells Bellamy as much the next day, asking if he's still got someone to set her up with, and he grins. "Yeah?"

"You said there was a girl in one of your classes, right?"

"Yeah, I'll invite her. I don't know how great I'll be at wingmanning you, though."

"Don't worry, I wasn't expecting you to help. I know better."

He snorts. "Shut up, I'm an amazing wingman. But, uh--" He rubs the back of his neck. "I kind of have a date too."

It shouldn't be a surprise; it was more surprising that, from what she could tell, Bellamy _wasn't_ hooking up much. He had in high school, or he had a reputation for it, but he doesn't have that now that he's at college. To the extent that he has a reputation, it's the reputation Maya thinks, this weird non-romance with Clarke, the thing that always happens when men and women spend too much time together.

No matter how much she's been telling herself she doesn't buy into it, Bellamy having a _date_ stings.

She channels it into valid indignation. "You didn't tell me!"

"I just did."

"I meant that you were interested in someone."

He shrugs. "It might not go anywhere. She's cute, she works at the library. I figured I'd see if she wanted to come to a party and she said yes."

"Congratulations."

"Seriously, not a big deal. We'll see if it goes anywhere."

"You want it to?"

"Assuming she's cool, yeah." He runs his hand through his hair, and she realizes all at once that he's actually nervous, that this is stressing him out. Which makes her the asshole for feeling weird. He's her friend. She just got finished telling Maya that she's not really interested in him, and it wasn't a lie. Her job here is to help him.

"You really like her, huh."

"I like her in theory. I barely know her. It would be cool if it worked out."

"Maybe I should be wingmanning you."

He snorts. "I did say I wanted her to like me, right? I'm pretty sure you'd do more harm than good."

"So I should pretend I don't know you?" she teases.

"Just be yourself."

"Are you sure about that?"

"If she doesn't like you, I'm not going to date her anyway," he says, pulling her heart into her throat, nearly choking her. Luckily, he follows up with, "You're not a wingman, you're a test."

"Yeah, that's so much better."

"I'll return the favor if Finn ever comes to anything again."

"Or with this girl."

"Niylah already likes me, you two are set."

"Double date."

He laughs, and her heart twists up. It's so petty, to be noticing how cute he is _now_. She's jealous he likes someone else, feeling possessive of her best friend. It'll pass in a few days, once she's gotten used to the idea.

"Something like that," he says, and she manages a smile.

It's going to be fine.

*

The girl's name is Gina. Clarke's seen her at the library, although she never left a huge impression before; she's cute and quiet and looks at Bellamy like she can't believe he asked her out. She's definitely going to go out with him more, and they're probably going to be good together. Clarke's going to be happy for them, too. She just needs a little time.

In theory, she has it. The party is during finals, so she has plenty to distract her, and once finals are done, she's going home for a few weeks. For most people, it would be a perfect break, a time to detox, deal with her issues, and come back refreshed.

Instead, she's going home to her mother, for not just her first Christmas without her dad, but the first anniversary of her dad's death. And it's not like she's actually getting a break from Bellamy, either. They booked tickets on the same flight, sitting next to each other. They're planning to split a taxi to the airport, and even if they'll be going to their respective homes, she has no reason to think she won't see him while she's home. She was looking forward to it, even; she could use an excuse to get out of the house.

She doesn't see a ton of him over finals. They have papers for their shared classes, so they talk about what's going on, but he's mostly studying in the library (near Gina) and she's in her room, so it's via text. He comes over to work at her futon sometimes, and they grab meals together, and it's all fine, but her eye keeps catching on his jaw and his eyes and his stupid smile, and she can't get herself interested in talking to Finn _or_ Niylah. 

She's an asshole.

The cab ride to the airport is quiet, and they get stuck in traffic so they're in a rush to get through security and make it to their gate. Clarke considers just pretending to be asleep once they make it to the plane, but Bellamy speaks up before she can get it started, his voice pitched low. "Are you okay?"

"Just stressed," she says.

"Isn't the stress supposed to be over?" he teases, but it only lasts a second. "I wanted to check-in sooner, but you've been busy. Not that I don't get it. I'd be trying to distract myself too."

She really hopes he doesn't get it. "Distract yourself?"

"It's going to be your first Christmas, right? And the accident was at New Year's, so--"

It shouldn't be a relief, but he'd rather he think she's worried about her dad than about her semi-crush. She _should_ be more worried about that. "And my mom and I are still awkward."

"Yeah, I've seen the face you make when she calls."

"I think she thinks that if I'm okay, she'll be okay. Like she can fix herself by fixing me."

"Do you need fixing?"

He says it like it's a real question, not an obvious fact. Like she might actually be set like this. "You think I don't?"

"You want the truth? I was never the same after my mom died. I spent a while waiting to get back to normal, but that kind of thing--normal isn't normal anymore. You aren't going to go back to how you were."

"This is really making me feel better."

"I never said the new you was bad. I wasn't friends with the old Clarke, and now we're on a plane home together. Not that--" He makes a face. "I would have been friends with the old Clarke, and I'm not like--"

He's just getting more and more flustered, and as amusing as it is, she wants him to get to his actual point. "I get it. It's not like I don't--I had a good semester. But I thought I'd be better by now, I guess. Feel better."

"I get it. But--" He drums his fingers against his knee. "What would you do if you weren't waiting to feel better?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you weren't worrying about being--whatever you think you should be. Normal or popular or cool. If you just felt good, what would you be doing in college? I don't really think what you want is to be some outgoing party girl."

"I want to have the option."

"You do. But--" He sighs. "If you're a whole new person now? This is the person you are. And if you wake up one morning and you feel better, that's cool. But if you don't, you still have to keep on going. So--if this is it, what's going to make you happy?"

It must be a calculation he did himself, something he figured out. The Bellamy she knows is the Bellamy from after his mother's death, a boy who lost both parents and came out strong and smart and kind. He can't know who he would be if this hadn't happened, but he can still be the best version of himself.

"Stop waiting to be okay and start trying to be okay?"

He shrugs. "It's harder, but it's a lot more likely to work. You don't need to be different for people to like you, Clarke. Everyone at Arcadia just knows this you, and they like you."

"Not all of them."

"No offense, but everyone in high school didn't like you either. That's not new."

"Thanks."

"I think you're pretty great," he says. It's not news, but it makes her stomach swoop anyway. "I always have."

"Always?"

"I keep telling you, you didn't like me. Not the other way around."

"Are you going to keep going to the LGBT club meetings?" she asks.

"Unless they kick me out for dating a girl, but I'm pretty sure they won't. They've got a lot of bi and pan members, so--" He shrugs. "I'm hoping it won't be an issue. Why?"

"I think I want to come. For a first step."

"Sounds good." He yawns and shakes out his shoulders, leans his head on her shoulder like he's settling in. "I didn't get much sleep last night, so--"

"You're just going to pass out on me?"

"I'm going to try."

She grabs her iPad. "Thanks for the pep talk, by the way."

"Any time. Did it help?"

"Yeah," she says. It feels like a weight has lifted off her, like a door has opened. Maybe all she needed was permission to be like this, someone to remind her she doesn't have to be _okay_. There isn't some goal she has to hit before she can be happy. All she has to do is feel happy in the skin she's in. "Yeah," she says again, smiling down at this miraculous boy on her shoulder. Her best friend. "I feel so much better."


	2. Friends to Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after Bellamy and Echo have been in a long-term relationship and involves Echo being around some. Please plan accordingly and also do not take this as an invitation to tell me your feelings about Echo and/or Becho. Thanks!

"Do you still need a new roommate?"

Bellamy follows up on the question by flopping face down onto her bed, so clearly he's having a good day. He said he was coming over and he let himself in, but that's not suspicious, in and of itself. He comes over at least once a week, and she gave him the key so she didn't have to go down five flights of stairs every time he came by. Plus, he catsits for her when she's out of town. It's a good system.

"How important is this conversation? Do I need to stop working on this paper?" she asks.

"How soon is it due?"

She closes her laptop and swivels the chair around, looking him up and down. Not that the view of his back is particularly enlightening. "Let me guess, your sister got evicted again and you want me to take her until she gets on her feet."

"Good guess, but no. I think this one is actually going to stick."

"Okay, so who needs a roommate?"

"Me."

Her jaw drops open, unhinging as fluidly as if he pulled a pin out of it. "You need a place to live? What happened?"

"Echo and I had a conversation about marriage. It didn't go well."

Bellamy started dating Echo most of the way through sophomore year, about a week before Clarke's shit hit the fan with Finn. She hadn't even realized his relationship had survived the fallout, had actually thought it wouldn't. Bellamy had been there for her every step of the way, and for Raven too, the other girlfriend he'd called Finn having a year before. Maybe it had been unfair of her, but she found it hard to believe that anyone would put up with their boyfriend being so invested in someone else's emotional fallout.

When the dust settled and Echo was still there, Clarke felt as if she'd missed the boat, somehow. Everyone else had a dynamic figured out with her, and Clarke didn't quite get it, didn't know where she fit in. She spent a few weeks assuming that it wouldn't last and not worrying about it, until Maya took her aside for a serious talk about being _nice_ to Bellamy's girlfriend, even if she was jealous.

And she'd done her best, as Bellamy and Echo kept on failing to break up. She never thought it was jealousy, exactly, although it was probably related. Between Gina and Murphy, she'd come to terms with Bellamy having relationships. It was more that she felt as if she never figured out the status quo with Echo in her life, and she kept hoping she wouldn't have to. It's not as if she's an overall warm and welcoming person, anyway.

When graduation came and went and they hadn't broken up, she resigned herself to this being it, to Echo being Bellamy's girlfriend and then his fiancee and then his wife, and that would have been fine. She would have lived with it.

She doesn't know how to feel about the sudden absence of that resignation. It's like all the air being sucked out of her life, leaving her in a vacuum, suspended. It feels like it's her fault, somehow, for not trying harder. For being Bellamy's best friend and not Echo's. For always having some part of her brain that was ready for the two of them to not make it.

But she's not _happy_ about it. Her first reaction is concern and sympathy. That's something.

"She said no?" she asks.

He rolls over onto his back, rubs his face. "I never actually got around to asking. It was more of a preliminary, like--where are we going kind of thing. But it turns out if you float marriage and she says no, that's kind of it. We're not going there, or anywhere else."

"So you're moving out?"

"I needed to not be there tonight," he admits. "Long-term, I don't know. If you've got room, that's easiest."

"You don't have to just give up your apartment."

"It was our apartment. Someone's got to give it up."

"I haven't found a new roommate yet," she says. Gaia moved out a few weeks ago, and Clarke's been dragging her feet. Her mother owns the condo and appreciates rent, but she doesn't _need_ it. When Clarke told her about Gaia leaving, Abby said that she should wait until she found a good fit, and Clarke had been planning to. "But I feel like we should be talking about how you and your girlfriend broke up, not where you're sleeping."

"Well, after this conversation, I'm going to want to pass out," he says, heaving a sigh. "So if I can do that here--"

"You could do that even if I didn't need a roommate. So, you asked where this was going, and she said _nowhere_?" It sounds so bad once it's out of her mouth, she winces. "Not--"

Bellamy's laughing, though. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess she felt like we were in a holding pattern. Going through the motions but not really feeling it. I can't even say she's wrong, but I probably would have kept going with it if she hadn't brought it up."

"You seem pretty okay with this. You thought you were going to marry her."

"Yeah. I don't think it's sunk in yet," he admits. "I'll probably wake up in a couple days and realize I'm single and I don't know what the rest of my life looks like."

Clarke hasn't even been in a relationship like Bellamy was with Echo. Finn was her first serious boyfriend, and while it was almost a year and a half between their first meeting and the crash-and-burn ending, she wasn't actually dating him for most of that time. They spent a good year dancing around each other, a few months dating, and then Clarke found out about Raven and everything went to hell. She and Niylah were more friends-with-benefits than girlfriends, and she and Lexa had one of those intense relationships that felt like it was going to be forever, but it burned itself out in under six months. When she regrets breakups, that's the one she thinks of, even though she's pretty sure it couldn't have lasted in the long term. Everything was too much, and not in a good way.

"So, you want to move in," she says.

"If that's cool."

"We've never actually lived together."

He frowns. "Are you worried?"

"No, I was just thinking it's kind of weird. It seems like we should have, at some point."

"Same suite in college is pretty close to sharing an apartment."

"Yeah." She goes to sit with him on the bed, and he sits up to make room for her. She puts his arm around him, and he leans in. "I'm sorry, Bellamy. I really thought you guys were--I didn't think she'd be this stupid."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, you're a catch. She should have locked this down." 

"I don't think I count as a catch if she didn't want me."

"Like I said, stupid."

"Thanks, I think." He sighs, shakes his shoulders out. "Am I good to sleep on the couch tonight?"

"You're good to move in, if you want."

"I don't have my own bed," he says. "Or anything to move in yet. I need to coordinate with Echo, get all my stuff packed up, figure out money--" He rubs his face again, and Clarke can practically see the headache between his temples. "I don't want to think about it tonight, I just want to get drunk and pass out somewhere that won't kill my back."

"You're twenty-four," she teases. "Your back is fine."

"And I want it to keep on being fine, so--"

"So the couch should work for a night or two. You're going to tell me what you need, right?"

"A drink, to start," he says. "And if you want to tell Jasper that Echo and I broke up, that would be great."

"Get the word spread around?"

"If you don't mind."

"I'll text him, you can go make yourself a drink."

He leans against her for one more second, gives her a quick squeeze. "Thanks, Clarke."

She smiles. "What are friends for?"

*

The first couple weeks after Bellamy moves in, there are a lot of logistics to deal with. Breaking up as an adult is complicated in ways Clarke hadn't ever had to think about, and she's pretty sure Bellamy hadn't either. It isn't even as bad as it could be for him and Echo, since they've only been actually living together for the two years since graduation. They don't have a mortgage, and Echo can afford the lease on her own. No pets, no kids, no joint financials, a best case scenario for disentangling that's still a lot of work. 

"I didn't kick him out," Echo tells Clarke, when she's helping him pick up his stuff.

"I know."

"I specifically told him he didn't have to leave."

She shrugs. "You know Bellamy." He'd feel weird, staying around, inconveniencing Echo. Bellamy's solution to other people being uncomfortable is to try to remove the discomfort, even if he's the discomfort.

Especially if he's the discomfort.

"I do know Bellamy," she agrees.

Clarke skips the platitudes, doesn't make any hollow promises about how she and Echo will stay in touch or claim that she's upset about the breakup. She doesn't dislike Echo, but there doesn't seem to be a world where the two of them become friends. If Bellamy wants Echo to keep on being a part of his life, then she'll keep on being a part of Clarke's; otherwise, they're done.

Bellamy hugs her before they leave with all his stuff, and she says she Venmo'd him for his share of the furniture she kept, and that's it. The Echo chapter of his life is over, and Clarke doesn't want to be a dick about it, but she can't say _she's_ particularly broken up.

But the foundation of their friendship was Bellamy being there when Clarke needed a friend, so she's going to do the same thing for him. Regardless of how she feels about it.

"So, what do you need?" she asks.

"Nothing yet, I'll let you know."

They're putting together his new dresser, so that's on her for not being clearer. "I was thinking globally. Like, with the breakup."

"Who says I need anything?"

"Me."

He snorts. "Based on what?"

"Logic."

"Feelings aren't logical."

"And you feel fine? You said it would take a few days to sink in, and it's been a few weeks, so--"

"Give me the allen wrench," he says, and she hands it over. "This is going to sound shitty."

"Good, hit me."

"I'm still pretty sure it's going to suck at some point, but right now, it's kind of a relief."

It's not shitty, but it is shocking--less because it's how he feels and more that he's admitting it, even to her. "That sounds kind of legit, but I need more information to be sure."

"It's not like I wasn't happy," he says. "I was. But I also didn't know what I was going to do if we broke up. I was afraid I wouldn't know what to do being single, but--I'm actually kind of excited. To see what it's like being a single guy in my twenties."

She'd never actually thought about it like that. "I guess you have been dating Echo for all of your twenties."

"Yeah."

"I don't think that's shitty. I think it probably means it was the right decision."

"Or I'm just an asshole who thinks casual sex is going to be more fun than it actually is."

"Are you planning to have a lot of casual sex?"

"Probably not." He huffs. "I just--it sucks, but I keep thinking about, like--the stuff I wasn't going to do if I was dating her. If I married her. And that's not how I'm supposed to be feeling."

"So, I need to talk you through not feeling bad about your breakup?"

"You don't _need_ to, but apparently you're not taking no for an answer."

"You came to me," she reminds him. "That counts as opting in for help."

"Or it means you had a spare bedroom." She just looks at him, and he dissolves into a smile. "Yeah, okay, fine. You can tell me how okay it is to be okay."

"It beats the alternative."

"But I want that," he says. "Not being upset, but--it's not like I don't want to get married someday. So now I'm just--" He sighs. "I should have realized I wasn't ready. I definitely shouldn't have just--"

"You were happy, right?"

"I wasn't _un_ happy." 

Clarke sits on the edge of his new bed, and Bellamy sits next to her, letting out a long breath. "Fuck you for making me talk about this."

"Friends," she says, and he laughs, hands fidgeting in his lap.

"I think I could have gotten her to say yes," he admits. "If I'd tried, I could have talked her into it. I could have worked for it, and I didn't."

"She's the one who told you she didn't want to marry you. If that was some kind of test, it was pretty shitty of her."

"Not a test. But if someone says that they feel like the spark has gone out of the relationship, you don't have to agree to call it. I could have said she was wrong and worked harder."

"But she wasn't," says Clarke, gentle. "If you're having second thoughts, if you miss her and think the two of you could make it work, you know you could go back and tell her that. You could beg for forgiveness and she'd probably take you back. But you aren't upset she broke up with you, you're upset that you're cool with it." 

"I should have noticed."

"You should have."

"You knew."

Clarke shifts. He's not accusing her of anything, she knows that. He says it as a fact, which it is and it isn't. Separating truth from bias is thorny in the best of circumstances and impossible when it comes to Bellamy. She can't be unbiased about him.

"That's giving me a lot of credit for never totally warming to your girlfriend."

"You don't warm to most people, I didn't take it personally."

"Did she?"

His wince is an answer all by itself, but he does insist on saying, "I don't think so. She knew you were my friend, not her friend. She had friends like that too."

"She told me she didn't kick you out."She'd thought Echo wanted to make clear that she hadn't been an asshole in the breakup, that she hadn't mistreated Bellamy, but it felt weightier than that. It's not like Clarke _cares_ , really. She's never going to be on Echo's side in this. "So she was probably worried I was going to get revenge on her or something."

"Maybe." He flops onto his back on the bed. "I think I'm doing the right thing."

"I think you are too."

"I should probably send her something nice."

"Maybe. What do you want your relationship with her to look like after this? Do you want to be friends?"

"I want to do what she wants."

"Bellamy."

"Honestly? No, I don't want to be friends. But you can't say that." He pauses. "Well, you can. I can't."

She smiles. "I just said that to Finn. Lexa and I pretended we were going to stay friends, but I don't think she believed it either."

"I think I could be later," he says. "But right now it's just going to be too much baggage. I wouldn't know how to be around her."

"Maybe I actually will be good at this whole comfort thing."

"Don't get cocky."

"It does sound familiar. Freshman year of college with less death."

"Jesus, now I'm depressed."

"First you're depressed, and then the healing starts. That's how it works. You have to go through the pain first."

"It's so good you decided you didn't want to be a doctor after all, your beside manner is a nightmare." He pushes off the bed, stretches. "But--thanks. For talking me through this. Whether I liked it or not."

"You're going to need to talk more," she points out. "And I'll be here."

"I know. For now, you can help me finish up with this dresser."

"Deal," she says, and stands herself. "Happy to help."

*

Since becoming friends with Bellamy, Clarke has worried about the two of them drifting apart on three big occasions. The first was during the Finn fallout, when Bellamy started dating Echo and it felt like his life had readjusted without her and there wasn't room for her in it anymore. The second time was when she did study abroad for fall semester of junior year and he did it for spring semester and she was sure that they'd come back with too much distance between them, and the third was graduation, when she didn't think they'd end up in the same place.

And although they both ended up in Boston, graduation had been the thing that came closest to doing in their friendship. The issue is less that they stop caring about each other and more that maintaining friendship after college is different from maintaining it during. They live in different parts of the cities, with different commutes to different jobs. After a year, Clarke starts law school, in addition to working part time, and if Bellamy hadn't made sure to come over for lunch once a week during her first semester, she really might have lost him.

She'd been worrying about his and Echo's getting married as the hypothetical fourth occasion, the one that might actually end them. People stay friends after they get married all the time, and Clarke isn't one of those people who's despairing over being single at twenty-four, but she did feel the awareness of Being Single as everyone else paired up. As Bellamy's relationship got more serious, she could feel their lives growing farther apart. They had different priorities, different milestones, different things to do on the weekend.

But now, Bellamy is single again. Not just single, but living with her. They couldn't be in more similar circumstances.

So she does get Bellamy's guilty, conflicted feelings about his whole breakup. She's not supposed to be happy about it, but it's an involuntary reaction. Her best friend is around _all the time_ ; the specifics suck, but the end result is really working out for her.

They don't see each other all the time, of course. Clarke is in her second year of law school, taking a full course load and doing an internship, and Bellamy's teaching high school, which keeps him almost as busy. It's part of why they hadn't been seeing a ton of each other before the breakup, too much going on, too many things pulling them in different directions.

Now, there's coffee waiting for Clarke when she wakes up in the morning, and the cat has already been fed. She's still desperate for attention, of course, but she at least gets some of her neediness out before Clarke wakes up. It's not the biggest change, but it snowballs as the day goes on. Bellamy likes to cook, so she'll often grab leftovers he made for lunch. She gets the dishes out of the way and the kitchen cleaned up before class, and the two of them text throughout the day. They always talked a lot, but it feels like a little less of a minefield, now. At this point, Clarke knows herself pretty well, and she knows that she can be petty and a little temperamental, that she retreats from relationships faster than she should and is better at cutting and running than many people are, when she feels left out or neglected. It's easier to talk to Bellamy when she's more familiar with his life. When she's not always worried about finding something to make her want to leave him.

She stops by the store on the way home if they need groceries, and she's usually there when he gets back. He'll collapse onto the couch, complain about his students for as long as he needs to, and Clarke will tell him about her professor that she hates, and then they have dinner and watch Netflix and she wonders if he's really as okay as he says he is.

Guilt feels like another new roommate in less than a week, which is why she sets up a coffee date with Raven.

Bellamy is Clarke's best friend and the first person she goes to with problems, but Raven is definitely her backup. And Raven is the only one who calls her out about Bellamy, which makes her the perfect candidate for venting. 

Really, the most surprising thing is that Raven isn't already calling her out.

"Am I an asshole?" she asks.

"Yup," says Raven. "What did you do?"

"Just all the Bellamy stuff."

"What, you aren't doing well with the love of your life finally being single?"

"Don't call him that."

"I call them like I see them. It doesn't have to be a romantic thing, but--you guys are a lot. What actually happened with him and Echo?"

"He started a conversation about marriage that ended with the two of them breaking up. It sounded kind of mutual? He's doing okay, and that means I don't have a lot to do."

"And you're happy."

There's no point in denying it to Raven. "Yeah, I'm happy." It wasn't an instantaneous thing, but it didn't take long. Not once it seemed like Bellamy was doing well.

"You didn't do anything wrong. It's not like you were an asshole to her or anything. I assume she didn't give him an ultimatum."

"I don't think so. I don't know if he would have told me if she did, but--I don't think she did."

"No one really wants to say _it's me or her_ , especially when he would have picked you."

"Ultimatums are shitty, you don't want to be with someone who gives them."

"No." She fixes Clarke with a look. "I know you've never been in love with him, but he hasn't been single, either."

She can't even get mad about it; she brought it up. It's not like this is a surprising turn of events. She asked Raven to get coffee to have this exact conversation. "I didn't actually think they'd get married, but I didn't think they'd break up either."

"Yeah, it was a weird one. They were fine together, but it never seemed like true love or anything."

"It feels like I won a competition I wasn't trying to be in. Like I'm fucking up not telling him to go back to her. Like I'm selfish or something."

"Mostly self-centered. No one said it was about you, right? People can break up."

"If you were me, what would you be thinking?"

"Honestly? I'd be doing the math on how long I had to wait to make a move."

"What does that math look like to you?"

"Nothing ever happened between you guys, right? Even before the two of them got together."

"No. I was in a pretty bad place for a while, and then--" She shrugs, helpless. "He had a girlfriend, a boyfriend, Echo. He's had someone else for most of the time we've been friends. And I wasn't going to wait around for him to break up with anyone for me."

"You kind of did, though."

"Just because I'm single doesn't mean I was waiting. I was ready to be the best man in his wedding, and now--"

"You want me to tell you it's cool that you're into him? It's cool. You're not Finn, Clarke. You didn't break them up, you're not lying to anyone. Just tell him how you feel."

"I don't want to--it's been like a month since he broke up with her. They were together for _years_. And they weren't that serious the whole time, but it's still--"

"You don't want to be a rebound."

"Or a mistake."

"Not to be all romantic on main or whatever, but this is Bellamy we're talking about. The guy would throw himself in front of traffic to keep you from getting a paper cut. He might not be ready, but he's not going to hurt you."

"Romantic on main?" she teases.

"Shut up."

"You said it, not me." She sighs. "People don't always mean to hurt each other. And I don't want to hurt him either."

"So what are you going to do?"

As sad as it is, Clarke's been doing the same thing pretty much every day since Bellamy first told her to stop waiting around to get back to normal. She thinks about what she wants and how to get it now, without waiting to be someone different or better. And this one seems like a no-brainer. "I'm going to figure out how I feel about him," she says. "And then I'm going to figure out how to live with it."

"You're so fucking dramatic," says Raven, draining the last of her coffee. " _Figuring out_ how to live with your hot BFF being single again. You're going to be fine."

"Now I get why Bellamy never appreciates my pep talks."

To her surprise, Raven sobers a little. "Look, I get that this is weird, okay? If it was me, I'd be freaking out. But it's not me, so I can be objective. And objectively speaking? You're going to be fine."

"Okay, that was a lot better."

Her phone buzzes with a text from Bellamy asking what she wants for dinner tonight, and when her heart flips, she doesn't pretend it's nothing. She lets herself feel the soft, warm glow of possibility, a relief after such a long time without.

"I might know how I feel about him," she tells Raven, and Raven just smiles.

"Yeah, you don't say."

*

Despite what he said about embracing being single, Bellamy doesn't seem to show much interest in dating. Which wouldn't be a bad thing in and of itself--honestly, she was kind of dreading that--but he doesn't show much interest in any kind of socialization, and that's the kind of thing Clarke has to be worried about as his self-appointed support person. Bellamy's always been the social one among the two of them, but he's not making any plans, and after he turns down Miller's third invitation for after-work drinks, Clarke's had enough.

"You need another intervention."

"Oh good, the last one was so fun."

"You're being anti-social, and that's my job."

"Maybe I just don't want to be social."

"Bellamy."

"Echo's their friend too," he says. "If I tell Miller I'm coming, I'm either telling him to not invite her or making her put up with me."

"Either of which would be fine." She nudges him with her foot. "Have you talked to her?"

"Off and on. Logistical stuff. She's getting my mail, that kind of thing."

"How weird is it that your relationship with your ex reminds me of my relationship with my mom?"

"Really weird. I'm not sure who should feel worse about it, though."

"All of us." She stands, gives a decisive nod. "Okay, we're going to a bar."

"Now?"

"Why not now?"

"I figured you wanted to drag me somewhere with people."

"I'll text people to meet us there."

"Great."

"You like people."

"Sort of."

"You like having friends and being social."

"I don't want to talk about what happened."

 

The thing about a breakup is that you can't really hide it, not like Clarke hid what happened with her dad. All their friends know Bellamy is a month and a half out of a five-year relationship, and that he's been avoiding them.

Which is probably the bigger issue.

"The more you avoid them, the more they're going to think something is really wrong. Miller texts me every few days to check up on you already."

"Really?"

"It's almost like you're friends."

"I figured texting me was enough for him."

"You're not very forthcoming about how you're feeling."

"Hi, pot, I'm kettle."

"Maybe it takes one to know one." She puts her arm around his shoulders, knows from how easy it is that she's felt this way for years. Pining isn't fun, but she almost didn't notice it, it's been going for so long. It only bled in past the edges now and then. "We don't have to go, but I think you'll feel better if you get it over with."

"Probably, yeah."

She grabs their coats and tosses him his. "Plus alcohol."

"We have alcohol here."

"If you actually don't want to go, you can tell me. I'm not going to drag you kicking and screaming. But you said you wanted to enjoy being a single guy in your twenties and you kind of suck at it so far."

"You're single and we're doing all the same stuff."

"I'm trying to help you be yourself, not be me."

"Maybe I want to be you."

"We don't need two Clarkes."

"I'll come to the bar," he says, pulling on his coat and following her out of the apartment. "But I've got another shitty thing for you."

"I don't know why you don't just tell me shitty stuff right away. I love hearing shitty stuff."

"I never realized how hard it was living with her," he says. "Not, like--it didn't feel hard. But we moved in together, and I didn't actually like it. I felt like I never had any time to just--be myself. I think that's why I didn't mind moving out. It never really felt like home."

"And here does?"

"Yeah."

It's not a competition, but Clarke feels like she's winning anyway. "Can I ask you something?"

"If I say no, are you going to care?"

"Did you think about breaking up with her after graduation? You guys were pretty casual in college."

"I did, yeah. I thought we'd just go different cities and it wouldn't be an issue. She was applying to jobs in a lot of places, but then she got something here, and it just--worked out. It seemed stupid to break up with her without giving it a try. And then I didn't even notice it wasn't working."

"It's easy in college," she says, and he gives her an unimpressed look she definitely deserves. "Not for _me_. But even being friends with people was easier."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I just--fuck, Clarke. I hate feeling like I'm better off."

"Well, stop."

He barks out a laugh. "What?"

"If you didn't feel better after you broke up with her, you wouldn't have broken up with her. Maybe she feels better too. You could try asking."

"I don't know if it would be worse if she was happy or if she's not."

"It's probably worst having no idea."

"Probably." He stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching the scenery of the neighborhood as he thinks over his next line. "I keep thinking about all the times I could have broken up with her, and I didn't."

"Yeah, you didn't." She bumps against him. "This is you now, Bellamy. Stop thinking about who else you could have been. This is who you are now, so you should be making yourself happy."

"You know how glad I am you actually took that as your life philosophy?" He's trying to play it off as, if not a joke, at least not a real statement. But she can tell her means it, too. "I rehearsed that speech."

"It's good advice. You aren't going to ever be the guy you would have been if you and Echo broke up after graduation, so don't beat yourself up for not doing it."

"I know." He gives her half a smile. "So I should get a drink and try to enjoy my life."

"You're enjoying your life anyway, you might as well stop feeling guilty about it."

" _Don't worry, be happy_ is always a weird life philosophy from you."

She holds the bar door open for him. "It's easier when I'm telling you to do it. I want you to be happy."

"I really am," he says. "But you know I suck at that."

"I know," she agrees. It was a surprise, when she realized it somewhere in freshman year. She always thought of Bellamy as the well-adjusted one, the happy one. And he's good at faking it, but it _is_ something of an act. He frets so much more than he lets on and, much like Clarke, he's better at telling other people what their issues are than dealing with his own. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it. I should have checked in."

"I think I get why you didn't."

He probably does, but there's no way she's letting him get away with it. "Yeah? Why?"

"Because you feel bad you and Echo never bonded, so you didn't want to tell me you thought it might not be good. Not when you thought the issue might be you."

"You never minded telling me Finn was a douche."

"Before you guys hooked up. I would have been nice to him if you guys actually dated for more than two weeks before I was _right_."

"Maybe if you hadn't called him _douche hair_ I would have listened sooner."

"Maybe if he didn't have douche hair, I wouldn't have called him that," he teases. They get their drinks and settle into a booth; Miller and Monty are on their way, and Raven said she'd stop by if she could, which is a pretty good group for a first outing since the breakup. Bellamy and Miller have definitely hung out one-on-one, but not a lot, and it's just been a quick meal on the weekend or something, Miller checking in.

This should be an improvement.

"I had an actual reason to not like Finn," he says, once they're seated, sounding thoughtful. "I never told you I didn't like Lexa because I thought I was just being a dumbass."

"Lexa didn't like you either."

"Lexa didn't really like people," he says. "But you two seemed happy, so I wasn't going to say anything. Even when it seemed like it wasn't right for you."

"I can't decide if we should make a pact to be honest about significant others from here or keep on not mentioning it," she muses. It's a weird conversation to be having, feeling the way she does. If she ever figures out how to tell him how she feels, and if he feels the same, it won't be an issue.

If he doesn't feel the same, it probably won't either. She doesn't know if their friendship could survive her unrequited love.

"You haven't dated anyone in a while," he says, like this could be something she hadn't noticed. "Any reason?"

She wasn't waiting for him, but she thinks he probably was the reason, somewhere deep down enough she could ignore it, but she hadn't _meant_ to be.

"I haven't been looking." She shrugs. "I'm not great at meeting people, but it doesn't bother me either."

"Single, but not ready to mingle?"

"Remember how you said you were going to have casual sex?"

"Yeah, it was a stupid idea."

That surprises her. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I don't actually like casual sex. I like relationships. I was just in the wrong one."

She could say something now, but the words haven't lined up right. It has to mean something, right? That Bellamy realized he didn't feel at home with Echo, but he wants to stay with her. That everything's been so easy. She doesn't think it would always be like this, especially not if they were actually dating, but they really _could_ work.

All relationships have rough spots, she knows that. But some of them are the right kind of hard, and she thinks they would be. A relationship worth working for.

"Dude, you're alive," says Miller, sliding into the booth next to Bellamy while Monty takes the spot next to Clarke. "I was starting to worry."

"Dude," Bellamy shoots back, gently teasing, "we talked yesterday."

"Or Clarke was texting me pretending to be you so I wouldn't know you were dead."

Clarke frowns. "Why would I be covering up Bellamy's death?" 

"I assumed you guys had some sort of weird pact."

" _If I die, never tell Miller_ ," says Bellamy. " _Weekend at Bernie's me if you have to_. It's in my will."

"I knew it." He takes a sip of his beer. "Good to see you. I'm going into student story withdrawal. Did those two kids you were trying to set up in third period figure it out?"

The avoidance in the question isn't subtle, but Bellamy doesn't object. He gives Miller all the student gossip he can handle, and the conversation moves on naturally from there. Clarke's whole goal in going to law school is to get more involved in fighting against the current administration, which is something all her friends are interested in, so they're eager to hear how her ACLU internship is going, and she wants to know how the video game Monty is working on is going, and Raven shows up with her new boyfriend, meaning they need to grill him to figure out if he's good enough for her.

The closest anyone comes to bringing up the breakup is Miller following Clarke to the bar and, while they're waiting for their next round of drinks, asking, "So, how's he doing?"

Clarke glances back at the table, where Bellamy and Monty are laughing about some joke she didn't hear. His glasses are crooked and his stubble is thick enough it might count as a beard, and she loves him as an involuntary reaction, as a resting state. 

"He's okay. You know Bellamy," she adds, with a smile. "He's feeling bad for not feeling worse. It needed to happen and he's glad it did, but--"

"But it didn't have to."

"Yeah." She looks at him. "Did you think they'd last?"

"Honestly, I had no fucking clue. They felt kind of like an old married couple, but--not in the good way, you know?"

"Not really."

"They were both too young to settle for _good enough_ ," he says, like he's thought about it a lot. "Don't get me wrong, if they hadn't broken up, I think they'd be fine. I wouldn't have tried to talk him out of it. But I think they can both do better."

"I thought he'd go for you for a while."

"Ditto."

She only hesitates for a second. "That one could still happen."

The bartender slides a drink over and Miller raises it like he had it planned, toasting her with a small smile. "Here's hoping."

*

"I saw Echo."

Clarke's hand stills on the dishes she's washing. Bellamy texted _I'll be home a little late, like six_ after school and she hadn't thought much of it. He came in, said hi, and then went and got changed out of his work clothes into his home clothes. Aside from his being home a little late, there wasn't anything noteworthy at all, certainly no indication he was going to be seeing his ex.

She thought he would have mentioned it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He collapses onto the couch with a sigh. "It was kind of an impulse decision."

"A good one?"

"I think so. I was just--I was thinking about how it was going to bug me until I talked to her, so I decided I should talk to her. I called her up to get coffee."

Clarke sits down next to him, trying not to feel too anxious. There's no way they got back together. This isn't how he'd be acting if they did. "And?"

"And it wasn't that bad. We're on the same page with the breakup. It was the right call, we're both happier, we can probably hang out like normal people if we want."

"So it was good."

"I think I needed it. She probably did too. Kind of a post mortem on the whole thing."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did." She elbows him, and he grins. "I didn't want to second-guess, so I didn't want feedback. And then I didn't tell you after because I figured it would be faster to just come home and do it in person. I'm good, really. Closure."

"That's good. And you aren't getting back together?"

"I thought you said you'd be cool with that."

Her blood runs cold. "I would be. Just checking. Figuring out what I need to be doing to help."

"We're not getting back together," he confirms, eyes going soft. "Like I said, we agreed it was the right call. And I helped her with her Tinder profile, which is about as broken up as you can get."

"Did she help you with yours?"

"I still don't have one. Or want one."

"So, this isn't closure where you decide it's time to start having random sex?"

"No. It's closure where I stop feeling bad."

"Just like that?"

"Probably not. But we're still on the same page, I think we'll be able to hang out. Be friends."

"If that's what you want."

"She's not expecting you to be friends with her, don't worry."

It wasn't as if Clarke was really expecting her and Echo to have some kind of reconciliation, or for Echo to want to have anything to do with her, but it _is_ awkward, more awkward than she was expecting. Because Clarke didn't do anything wrong here, had absolutely nothing to do with the breakup, and, despite definitely being in love with Bellamy, still hasn't made a move three months after the breakup. There's no rational reason for her to feel guilty.

But the problem with her and Echo is that the starting point for their relationship was Bellamy, and they don't have him in common anymore. It feels like they're starting over after knowing each other for five years.

And, of course, Clarke is in love with Echo's ex-boyfriend. And was kind of in love with him when he was her boyfriend, too. Even if Echo was never sure about that, she probably always wondered.

So it's not really a surprise when the two of them find themselves alone and Echo looks her up and down and says, "So, what's going on with you and Bellamy?"

Playing dumb would be cruel. "Nothing. He's my roommate and nothing is going on."

Echo nods. "But you do want him."

"Yeah."

"I won't say you were why I broke up with him, you weren't," she says, which is honestly a huge relief. "But you're why I don't feel bad about it."

"So why did you break up with him?"

"Because I thought I needed a better reason to marry him than being in the same zip code." She glances at Clarke. "Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But when he said the next step was marriage, I realized it was a step too far."

"You two really are on the same page."

"I was a little worried. But he was going to you, so I knew he'd be fine." Her fingers drum on the bar and Clarke doesn't push it. If Echo has things to tell her, she wants to hear them. "I did ask him about you."

"When?"

"More than once."

"No offense, but if I was that worried about my boyfriend's best friend--"

She shrugs. "He said that he was with me and he'd never be unfaithful. I believe that. And he said that he thought about making a move freshman year, but you weren't interested."

That one gets her. "Seriously?"

"He still thinks you aren't interested. If you are, you probably need to tell him."

"Shit." She gives Echo half a smile. "I didn't want to rush into anything."

"Are you working with a different definition of _rush_ than the rest of the world?"

That's enough to upgrade her to a real smile, and a soft laugh. "So, you're giving me your blessing?"

"If that's what you want. And he'll probably feel better knowing that we talked."

"I couldn't believe you'd give him up," Clarke blurts out, and Echo smirks. "He's _Bellamy_."

"Lucky for you, then. I'm rooting for the two of you."

"Thanks." She pauses. "Think we're going to be friends now?"

"Probably not. But I'm glad we're still in the same social circle."

Maybe _high standards for friendship_ is Bellamy's type. If Clarke's lucky. "Yeah," she agrees. "Sounds nice."

She goes back to the group before Echo does, takes the seat next to Bellamy, who looks relieved enough he must have been worrying someone had gotten killed. "Everything okay?" he asks.

"Great. Echo and I are glad we're still in the same social circle."

"Wow, I had no idea you two had gotten so close."

"Are you good?"

"Yeah, like I said, we talked. We're cool."

"I meant generally. It seems like you're doing better not feeling like a dick for being happy."

"Just feeling like a dick for the regular reasons, yeah. She didn't, uh--" He rubs the back of his neck. "Everything really went okay?"

"Yeah," she says. "Everything's great."

*

Clarke never actually thought about telling Bellamy how she felt about him. She thought, sometimes, guiltily, about him knowing, about this nebulous time when maybe he and Echo broke up and she was single and things just worked out, but it had never even fully crystallized into a fantasy. Certainly, there had never been a to-do list, a plan for what she would say or how to say it. She's never been very good at confessions, and even if she thinks he'll say yes, she's the one who has to find the words.

And then, he says, "Emori wants to set me up with someone."

Her stomach drops like a stone. "Who?"

"Who is she or who does she want to set me up with?"

"The second one. Emori's the calc teacher, right?"

"Yeah. She wants to set me up with some guy from her building. Apparently she thinks I need to get back out there."

"What do you think?"

"There's probably no harm, right? Just--give it a try. My first date in five years."

A random blind date probably wouldn't go anywhere. He'd go, and the two of them would have a nice meal, and after he'd come home and tell Clarke about how--

Well, he's Bellamy. He'd say the guy was nice enough and they might as well go on another date, and another, and another, and before Clarke knew it, this would be Bellamy's new boyfriend, and she'd be pretending that she didn't mind.

"Yeah," she says. "Or not."

"Don't tell me you've got a list of things that could go wrong on a first date."

"No, just--you don't have to go just because Emori wants to set you up."

"You're the one who kept asking when I was going to start dating. Now I might and you think I shouldn't?"

"Do you _want_ to be single? Do you want to meet people and go on dates and have to do--all that shit?"

"What's the alternative you're looking at here? I go on the dates to not be single."

"I meant--are you looking for something serious? Or do you just want to have fun with some guy Emori knows?"

He rubs his face. "How am I supposed to know if it's going to be serious? I haven't even _met him_. I don't know if we're going to--"

"But do you want that?"

"Jesus, if you have something to say about me dating, can you just say it? I don't know what the fuck you--"

"If you want to sleep around and be a single guy for a while, you should, but I don't want you to--trip and fall into a serious relationship again because I--" She exhales. "If you're going to be serious with someone, I want it to be me."

Bellamy's just staring at her, and her skin prickles with the awareness of how much she's said, how open she's being, how this could ruin _everything_. If Bellamy doesn't want this, it won't just be her heart breaking, it'll be her whole life cracking down the middle. They'll might survive it, but it won't be the same.

"Fuck," he says, with a short bark of laughter. "No wonder you've been a mess."

"I was helping!"

"I couldn't figure out what the fuck you wanted me to do with--anything. If you wanted me to get together with Echo or get on Tinder or--"

"I wanted you to be happy," she protests, but he's grinning, and she's not actually _worried_. He's not freaking out, he's not awkward, he's not figuring out how to let her down easy. "I wasn't going to sabotage you just because--"

Her courage dies in her throat, and Bellamy reaches over, takes her hand in his. They've held hands before, so it's not new. The shape and feel is familiar, the warmth and slight roughness. But it makes her heart beat, every time.

"Because?" he prompts.

"You're an asshole, I already told you--"

He raises his hand to her mouth and kisses it, eyes never leaving hers. "I wasn't planning to get serious with anyone but you. But I didn't want you to think I was rebounding or rushing or--"

"Echo said we have a different definition of rush than other people."

"Maybe she's right." He rubs his thumb against her hand, a smile dancing on his lips. Even if she wanted to stop looking at him, she wouldn't know how. She wants to remember everything. "It was more like--it's been ten years, I might as well do it right."

"Ten?" Clarke asks, surprised.

"Don't tell me you forgot how long we've known each other," he teases.

"I do, sometimes. I don't know if high school really counts."

"Are you kidding? I had a crush on you off and on for four years."

"You did not."

"Which one of us knows better, me or you?"

"You never told me."

"It never seemed relevant. And, uh--fuck, part of me never _stopped_ , Clarke. I couldn't say it like it was this funny thing that happened because it never went all the way away. I always knew that if--"

"If you dumped your girlfriend, you'd still want me?"

He winces, but she didn't actually mean it in a bad way. It's this weird thing that happens, the way you file people away. The feelings never resolved because they didn't die a natural death, they just got put on pause.

"It wasn't like that," he says.

"I know."

"So, this is the least romantic thing anyone's ever done, right? I'm fucking this up."

"I started it, so if anyone's fucking up, it's me." She wets her lips, squeezes his fingers. "You know in ten years, you've never kissed me, right?"

"Trust me, I know."

"We should probably fix that."

He doesn't respond, just tugs her in, not just close enough to kiss but all the way into his lap. It's not the first time they've been this close, not after cramming onto couches in college, but it is the first time she's been facing this direction. The first time he's been staring up at her, the first time it's been going here.

"I love you," he says, soft, and he tugs her down to kiss her before she can say it back. 

Clarke's had dreams about kissing Bellamy, which she's always just ignored. There's nothing really notable about having a dream about making out with a friend; she's had dreams about making out with Raven, too, and Gaia, and once Monty _and_ Jasper together. None of them meant anything, she told herself, any more than dreams about Bellamy did. They were just dreams, and she'd wake up feeling confused or amused or sometimes kind of horny, and no matter what, she'd just move on with her life.

Dreams about kissing Bellamy were more frequent, and her usual impression of those dreams is just a warm feeling in her chest, a soft, happy contentment. And that's the first sensation that comes with kissing the real Bellamy too, her whole body warming with the knowledge that this is real, her best friend who feels the same way she does.

Then he groans, pulls her closer, and it's a _kiss_ , the kind that's leading directly to a bed and nudity.

She makes herself catch her breath. "I think you shouldn't go out with Emori's friend," she says, and he laughs and kisses her jaw.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I don't think that one's going to work out."

*

"At least Echo broke up with me before I left her at the altar."

Clarke glances over at him from her laptop. He'd been grading and she'd been working on a paper, so while there's no direct line she can see between what they were doing and Bellamy getting left at the alter, they've only been dating for a few days and everything in her life still feels like it stems from that one amazing truth: Bellamy Blake is somehow actually her boyfriend.

"You think you would have?" she asks.

"I hope so." He smiles. "My sister probably would have told me I was making a huge mistake when I got engaged, so I might not have gotten that far."

"Thanks for the backup, Octavia."

"That would have been more about her hating Echo than her liking you, sorry. But I'm hoping I would have figured out--" He sighs. "I remember when I was a kid and I'd see movies with people in relationships that just weren't--they were going through the motions. And I always said I wouldn't be that guy, but--"

"Echo gave me her blessing, you can stop feeling guilty."

"Not guilty, just stupid." He smiles. "When I saw you in that dorm the first day of college, I thought it was my second chance, you know? We were going to get along and I would finally have a shot."

"Why didn't you say anything back then?" she asks.

"I thought you weren't interested. You liked Finn."

"I wasn't even dating him!"

"Yeah, but if that was your type--" She kicks him gently, and he smiles. "I was eighteen and a dumbass, what do you want me to say? I figured if you liked him you didn't like me."

"Which is also why I wouldn't have said anything about you marrying Echo, so, yeah. I get it." She smiles. "But we're getting our shot now."

"Think we're going to make it?"

"Well, if you leave me at the alter, I'm going to be pissed."

It should maybe be weird, making a joke about marriage after only a few days, but he laughs anyway. "Yeah, I'm not worried."

"Me neither," she admits. Their relationship has survived not dating for all this time, and that was the hard part. This is her, finally getting everything she wants. Happy. "This is us. We've got this."

He kisses her hair. "Yeah. When you put it like that."


End file.
